Orcs of the Red Blade

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Messages - Sakinra/Akanra

#76
Off Topic / Re: Art Section and creations!
May 21, 2016, 04:13:38 PM
#77
Off Topic / Re: Art Section and creations!
May 21, 2016, 05:32:53 AM
Um. I dont know how to resize and it's way WAY blurrier than it's meant to be.. Or y glasses are smudged. Never can tell


Spoiler: show
#78
Game Related / Internet broked!!!
May 19, 2016, 09:23:25 PM
With flawless timing as I was coming to the event, my internet was cut off. Guess who forgot to pay a bill.

All paid now, may take up to 24 hours to be re-Internet-ed.

Sorry!

Immi / Saki
#79
Applications / Application: Immika
May 12, 2016, 01:22:07 AM
Name:Immika
Class:Shaman
Level:25?-26? "In Progress" Is probably most accurate.

Tell us something about your (role)playing experience:

I've been RPing on and off since Wrath Era. Started Horde, but mostly been Alliance (Sorry :-[ ). Been away for about 2-3 months and just could not find the love for it, decided to come back and try a fresh character, Horde side, as the thought of going back to Game of Thrones - Stormwind - made me want to abandon the game all together.

And finally, please write a short story and/or IC introduction about your character:

Immika walked along the road. The dust shifted in the evening air whilst the final drabs of sunlight painted the world in orange hues. Her gait swayed oddly, every other step a short, half hop, the foot turned inwards and brushing lightly through the dust, kicked it up until it stained the bottom of her well worn robes, a warm, fiery ochre.

Orgrimmar's great bulk and the blockade stood but a mile away, Clinging to its crevices between the mountains, the city squatted, like a spike collared beast in a cave. She stopped and leaned against the wall of the canyon, lifting her gaze upwards and peered at the sliver of sky that could be seen between the overhangs. In the distance the Harpies cries could be heard. Squawking and calling from one nest to another.

Immika smiled to herself, she had been foolhardy to insist she could make the journey before nightfall. To dissuade all offers of worgs to bear her weight. The scent of the sea carried inland on the evening breeze and mixed with the dry dusty air. Closing her eyes, she allowed her mind to wander.

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She barely remembered the internment camps. She couldnt have been more than four or five summers when they were freed. They had travelled by the night, the younglings picked up and carried when they grew so sleepy their feet stumbled beneath them.

The sea air. She remembered the tang of it, the taste of it, filling her nose and her mouth as she was carried in the arms of an elder, her eyes flickering open in the pre-dawn light, not remembering being picked up.

"Throm'ka little one. Rest your eyes, it will be a while yet."

She did as she was told, curling her face against the neck of the male orc as he carried her, the sway of each step lulling her to sleep. It was the sound of the waves and the ships that woke her, and when it did, the dawn had risen and Immika stared. Having had every drop of water from the wells of the camp rationed, she could not believe there had been this much water in the whole world.

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The evening had cooled. Opening her eyes she found herself stood in the blackness of the canyon. The firey torches and braizers of the Dranosh'ar Blockade danced in the distance.

As a child she had run the road from the City to Razor Hill most days. Tearing out of the gates and on to Far-Watch Post with messages, out to the farms with deliveries in exchange for a meal or a place by the fire. Oh the games, she was the fastest of her peers, she relished the races.

Thokran, the Orc who had carried her from the camps to the boats, saw her from time to time. He once sat her down and asked what she wanted to do when she grew up. Immika had thought long and hard, and answered "Run". The old Orc had laughed and laughed.

"Perhaps you have more sense than those who stand hm? You shall have to seek out the honour in running. Come back one day and tell me one day where your running takes you."

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Immika looked down at the twisted foot, half bent beneath itself and shook her head. A wry smile forming on her lips.

Pushing herself away from her rest, she continued her slow trudge towards the city.

She paused and turned to look at the humbly marked urn, set back from the road, near a ring of stones. There had been so many added in the wake of the rebellion against Garrosh. She did not need to look hard, she had known his name was among those fallen. Perhaps that was why it had taken so long for her to come back.

The question hung in her mind, seemingly murmured softly on the breeze around her.

"Where has your running brought you?"

"Home."

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